City of Umbrellas
by Chikku-Chikku
Summary: #19. Ikebukuro, the City of Umbrellas, has never stopped raining. The border that divides east and west separates the two - and they'll do anything to reach each other.


**City of Umbrellas**

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_Theme #19_

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Prologue – _Disorder_

. . .

They became known as the City of Umbrellas because the sky and the clouds never stopped crying.

Teardrops of condensed liquid have always splashed over the rooftops of apartments, stores, and the various conglomerates that dotted Ikebukuro's car-filled roads. They slid down chimneys, crawled through gutters, slithered through the day and into the night; others pooled through winding streets and collected within houses, filling every crevice of every surface with a rush of crystal oxygen-hydrogen. The fog of blue and red clouds have forever mixed in with the scent of damp clothing and damp skin, damp hair and damp spirits. Their small droplets refused to end, as though some godly being from above wished to share his eternal pain and tears with the world. They have been there since the beginning of time, since the beginning of the city's memory.

. . .

No one was exactly sure how it started.

Even the oldest of them could only recall a certain January morning.

They remembered it as being clear and sunny, a relatively normal day with less than the usual excitement – a gang fight here and there, some attempt robberies at a local bank, the shouts of an insanely strong man chasing after an equally insane man – yet somehow, there was something else there too. Although the sun had been shining through an envelope of wispy cirruses, there was a foreign darkness in its hue that, though it was noticed, mostly went ignored. It was not until the beautiful bird came, halcyon in the way it flew across the city's berth, that they finally paid attention.

The bird was a deep and crimson red against the backdrop of light blue, at once lithe and superior in form, eyes a mercurial gray, long neck attached to a full-grown, plump body. Some would say, years later, that it was like the final sign given by some mysterious deity, warning them of what was about to come. However, at the time, all the people of Ikebukuro could do was stare as it crossed the line dividing the east and west of their city. And when it passed the boundary that separated the inhabitants of both sides, the incendiary form disappeared.

The people of Ikebukuro had blinked in surprise and shock; the west stood still in awe at the sight they'd just witness, the east puzzling over the strange mass of red that was suddenly forming near their edge of the border.

. . .

When the rain first began to fall in small droplets, only a mere hour later, it was the east side who soon realized how truly misfortunate they were.

The elders knew immediately that they had been cursed; and equally cursed back the bird for disappearing as it had entered _their _side, for gifting the west and not them as well.

Because, instead of the warm blue that graced clouds from the opposite side, they were given darkened red, blood-splattered ones. Instead of beautiful oval raindrops, the stains of some otherworldly element evident on their filmy sheets, the clouds dispersed triangle-shaped objects with ragged, dagger-like edges sharp enough to cut through metal. Instead of the smell of drizzled showers, dew on wet grass, and the early-morning aroma of pollinating flowers, they received a mixture of decay, fermenting bodies, and the odor of sickness and disease. The gradual tinge of despair and confusion filled the east so pungently that not even the darkness of the rain could come close to the darkness that soon grasped each inhabitant's heart.

On that first day, the ones stuck without shelter over their heads instantly died. When the red rain of the east touched the people's skin, there would be a brief splashing sound – and then the bones underneath their flesh would gradually dissolve and slip out of the bodies. They would collapse into the copper liquid and wait helplessness for their mind to slowly melt with their body, praying that the arms of death might be more gentle than the touch of rain. The blood that flowed from the motionless forms was as red as the tears from every single desecrated cloud in the sky.

The ones who had survived the initial wipe-out struggled to race to the other side of the city. They had phoned relatives or friends in western Ikebukuro and listened to the details of the beautiful sapphire rain and crystal clouds of the west with envy and fear. Mounting panic continued to fill their hearts, to the point where people foolishly began to risk their lives to reach the boundary. At first, nothing seemed to work; their clothes were almost always melted in mere seconds, the cars they drove demolished in wrecks as crimson rain completely blinded windshields, and all transportation – from buses to trains and underground subways and airplanes – either broke down or were too covered in rain to continue on.

Eventually, the acidic droplets grew so intense that they ate away at weaker substances like rock, gravel, and stone. Now buildings slowly began to crumble away, until only the most sturdy and stable ones remained. But even then, as the days and months dragged on, they gradually grew so feeble that they would collapse and crush the inhabitants within.

. . .

It wasn't until a year later that a genius underground doctor came up with the idea of _umbrellas _and finally reunited Ikebukuro again.

He came from the tranquil west and was fueled by the sight of the strange, never-ending rain; because he was fortunate enough to be on the brighter side, to have his laboratory and the majority of his friends with him, the doctor Shinra made it his goal to help the less fortunate. The initial design for the umbrella had stemmed from a simple mistake – he had mixed chemicals for a cough medicine only a few years earlier and accidentally infused a viscous toxin into the outer coat of the remedy. In one of his various experiments, Shinra became so desperate that he grabbed the vial without looking and poured the contents all over the umbrella-shaped contraption he'd created. His eyes had widened in amazement when the object suddenly congealed, flattened, then bounced back up with a _plop! _Instead of the original red color of the umbrella, it now glowed an unearthly, vibrant blue – the same chemicals that seemed to cover western Ikebukuro almost constantly.

Eager to try out the new invention, Shinra rushed into the streets without even covering his head from the sapphire drizzle. Though the clouds from the west weren't toxic like the ones from the east, they were still unhealthy that standing out in the rain too long could cause the skin to dry up and peel. But when the doctor sprinted out his door and under the downpour, instead of feeling his umbrella melt from the sheer pressure of water, he experienced something at once startling yet life-changing.

_He was dry._

Not a single drop of rain touched him. Not a single drop of rain could penetrate through the tough exterior of his umbrella. Even as he danced and whirled around in a circle, laughing underneath the cloud-filled sky, he felt _nothing_.

The miraculous news traveled faster than lightning. Everyone was sure that if the umbrella was strong enough to endure the blue rain than it would surely hold for the red rain as well.

Shinra immediately began making hundreds of the umbrellas, delivering them to the inhabitants of west Ikebukuro who wished to rescue their family, friends, or lovers on the opposite side. It took a few months for the doctor to develop ones for the crumbling buildings and machineries he had heard about in the east, but when they were all complete, every single person from every single area accompanied him to the line separating the two sides.

The sight was something to behold – row upon row of azure-colored parasols marching towards the division of red and blue, now a surly mixture of indigo purple. One by one, they crossed the barrier that had so long divided both sections of their home.

When the people gazed up through their umbrellas at the scarlet sky that was so alien to their usual blue one, mouths wide open in a shout of joy, they knew then that everything was changed.

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_Tbc._

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**A/N**: Theme 19 of my 100 theme challenge (yesh, I am skipping around Dx)!~ I greatly thank my friend Jada for this awesome theme! :'3 I mean, srsly? City of Umbrellas? So. Damn. Epic. Sounding. I hadn't planned on making this multi-chaptered, just wanted to do a oneshot, but somehow, the plot got a bit complex and now it'll probably be a bit long C: I don't know if I'll be continuing this any time soon, since school has kept me preoccupied lately (x-x) but I'll try my best. The summary will make more sense later on in the story (if I ever get them published). **And yesh, this shall be considered as an AU.**

I hope this was somewhat mildly interesting. I know it's a bit overly detailed but that's my style for this theme (and I'm usually better at this style xD). Theme 1 was a messy and disorganized style, heh :P

Reviews and critiques are love~! especially on this one, since it's a bit odd and weird. I'd love to hear your opinions on it C': And don't worry, Shizuo and Izaya should show up in the next chapter (insert: if I ever get it written ._.)!


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